


mornings are theirs

by maraudersourwolf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt, Grieving, Heartbreaking, M/M, Past Character Death, Tearjerker Wannabe, sort of comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf
Summary: It's been a year.But mornings are theirs.





	mornings are theirs

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you were my sunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14972039) by [maraudersourwolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersourwolf/pseuds/maraudersourwolf). 



> It's been literally a year since I wrote **you were my sunshine** for Thiam half birthday.  
> And months since I've written anything resembling angst.  
> So this was just prone to happen.  
>  
> 
> The thing is that I started to think about what grieving for a year would feel like.  
> How one could change.  
> Or how one could fall off the edge of the world and stay stuck.  
> And I decided that I needed to take it off my system in the only way I know how.  
>  
> 
> And there's that, I don't have any other excuse.  
>  
> 
> Barely to none beta’d.  
> Surely messy.  
> Please, get the tissues just in case.  
> Enjoy.

 

 

 

 

Mornings are theirs.

Liam doesn't really understand why, because Theo hates with the strength of his soul to wake up early. When any hour before noon seems to fit that criteria. While Liam, on the other side, loves to wake up 10 minutes before the sunrise starts. Open his eyes once more right when the sky is turning bright and hopeful, the quiet colors of the night giving place to the new day. He likes to hear the bird sing  and see the remains of dew shining on the window glass with the tentative rays of light poking through the horizon.

Theo hates coffee too. Which is insane for the amount of cups he takes a day, but it's known for both of them that otherwise he's not going to get up. Liam, on the other hand, loves coffee first thing in the morning. The bitter smell that promises a good start and gives his body the nice shake of familiarity. Of a routine he knows since he's young. Memories of how he used to burn his tongue more times than expected when it involved a single cup, but how with time he started to get the hang of it.

Theo also complains all the time, which is understandable for someone that doesn't know how to enjoy mornings. Either he's cold and there's no enough covers or he's hot and everything is too close for his liking, even Liam. He complains if Liam moves, if he doesn't move. If the neighbour's cat is already playing with her toy or if there's birds on the window are starting to sing. He complains about the hour, about the day, about the time of the day he decided to keep on breathing and why even is he trying at this point. He complains about it every second after he starts gaining consciousness in a symphony of 365 days. Sometimes a day less, if the world is lucky.

Liam doesn't.

He doesn't know how but he always manages, temperature wise. Theo is never too close for his liking. But he's always too far. He loves when Theo moves around grumbling in his sleep and when he stays curled in a ball, barely of giving any sign of life. The neighbour's cat playing with its little bell ball makes him smile and the birds outside the window are one of the best things the day could give him. He gets a strange thrill by looking at the clock, enjoys each day of the week differently, giving his thanks to the greater good and excitedly expecting his new adventures for the day.

But mornings are theirs.

That five to ten minute window where the universe is at the palm of their hands, on the shine of each other's eyes and not far away. Hands searching for whatever they can get hold of - clothes, blankets, hair, skin. Where Theo, still with his eyes closed, mutters half assed _I love you_ s and _I need you_ s that Liam doesn't reply because at one point he noticed words are not exactly what Theo needs first thing in the morning. 

An almost chronometre time in which he can enjoy. Place little kisses at the edge of Theo's jaw and watch him sigh in contentment. Where the chimera, murderous and dangerous, becomes nothing but a bundle of hitched breaths and the instinctive drive of searching for the warm body that's supposed to be over the beddings at his side. Where the monster whose anger is cold and pain is hot curls until he turns small as a blink of an eye and tugs at Liam's heart with the impassive need of stitch back together wounds of years with no other tool except tender touches and gentle kisses.

Five to ten minutes, no more.

Liam sees the world move in slow motion around them. Careful, as if scared to disrupt something as sacred as Theo's dreams. Something for what he is grateful. Fingers threading into soft brown hair that it's starting to curl at the tips by how long it's getting. The constant frown of a facade that everyone stopped to believe so long ago is replaced by slightly open lips and even breaths.  Flushed cheeks ebbed with life that Liam can only observe in trance; he remembers a history class with a teacher going off about the marvellous art that we had been gifted over the centuries, and Liam adds to that long list of things the way Theo's eyelashes flutter with an impassive dream that he knows by memory now.

The sun starts to shine in.

Theo stirs in his sleep, in a way that's clear to see he's just grasping tightly on the last shadows of sleep aching to prolong it. Liam kisses his forehead and tries his best to make his back serve as a living wall to cover the light, but it still caresses the chimera's features and makes him groan. A dragged out sound that holds no pleasure, just a wordless complain to the cruel world that still demands of him daily as if he hadn’t given up enough already.

As if mere hours of sleep could cover years of living nightmares and crippling shadows.

And maybe they do.

Or maybe they don't.

Slowly Theo's breathing turns troubled but not in a way that everyone could pinpoint. It turns collected. Measured. Each intake slowly starting to match the one before. As if every breath until his last will be counted. Liam can see him chase the shadows under his eyelids away. Collect himself. Gather strength. Baby blue eyes shift to the clock on the bedside table that marks 10 minutes past the sunrise and a saddened smile spread on his lips.

Mornings are theirs.

When Theo opens his eyes, Liam can notice it. Green still blurred with the edges of slumber and the drowsiness that helps him pretend this is just another nightmare he's living and not the real life. He's facing the window and Liam can almost hear him complain about the stupid birds singing and the awful cat of his neighbour already playing with the bell ball. In his eyes, there’s a storm brewing and the darkest day to face but the window pictures a reality of soft strokes and warm colors than he can’t seem to bear with.

Liam wishes he could paint a sky free of sorrows for him to enjoy, but the chimera seems to go deeper and deeper into the storm until he drowns inside himself and a choked sound comes out of him.

Liam is laying there, but the bed at his side is empty.

Theo still touches the bedding, stay silent for a moment and smiles at best he can. Tight at the edges. Unsure. Liam smiles back, secure and warm. Pleading for a second where he can see Theo’s gaze shine with the same wit and the same mischief he did before. When he was alive. When _they_ were alive. Before his heart bleed in a way he hoped never experience. Before Theo left himself die at his side, just in a whole different way.

Pressing one hand over Theo's, even though the boy can't feel his touch, Liam wishes he could lace their fingers together once. The way he never found the bravery for before. The way he always wished, in the dark, when they gravitated towards each other and Liam feared to get lost on the chimera.

Maybe it was always meant to be the other way around.

The sun starts to pick up brightly.

Mornings are theirs.

Theo rubs his face, sighs brokenly and Liam knows what words are going to  fall off the chimera’s lips before any sound besides his troubled breathing comes out.

“It’s been a year and I still love you”

Liam’s smile wavers for a second but it doesn’t break.

He knows Theo loves him. He knew it in the way the chimera followed him blindly each and every time. He knew in the way the sneers turned into tentative smiles. In the way his green eyes shone. He knew it in the trust so hard earned. He knew. Because he felt the same.

He feels the same.

A year of grieving together where Liam got to see Theo cut the blooms that life gives him because he thought he wasn’t allowed to blossom, not after the way he withered away. He saw the chimera starve of love and care and cut any loose end even when they were tightly secured before. He saw him perish and stop his own rebirth because this time he had lost the only thing no one had been able to take from him before.

For a year, Liam grieved with Theo and waited.

Until he didn’t have to anymore.

There’s a smile on Theo’s lips now that’s undoubtedly gorgeous for how wrecked the boy seems to feel. The storm behind his eyes passes and settles into something else as a few stray tears make their way down Theo’s face. Today he’s not going to cut down his blooms, Liam knows.

“I will always love you, sunshine,” Theo breathes out and it sounds like a weight that’s been lifted off his chest. Like the first gulp of air after being underwater for so long his lungs burn.

Liam’s smile widens.

Mornings are theirs.

And he just have to wait until tomorrow.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [And I-- I hope for your life, you forget about mine. Just forget about mine.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9EN9MIa3Kyc)  
>  
> 
> You can scream at me in the comments in every language you want.  
> I swear I know how to use Google Translate and other translators.


End file.
